I’m pretty good at avoiding chuggers in town. I either ‘don’t see them’ or I get away from them as politely and quickly as possible. But with Amnesty International and Greenpeace it’s a little harder. I have been a member of both and support their work, but not to the extent that I will sign away my money in the street.
Their chuggers are generally nicer to chat to than others. That’s why last week I didn’t avoid the nice young man on the street corner, but said I only literally had a minute (dentist’s appointment), so if he could cut to the chase, please?
He tried. He really did. And he was lovely. But really, I don’t need an explanation of what Greenpeace do or be told about palm oil. If I did, I’d probably not want to give money anyway, and as I do know, we can save several minutes.
I suppose what gets to me is that I now look so old and stupid and unfashionably uncool, that I ‘need’ the explanation.
In the end I got away by promising to look their current project up online, and pointing out that I had been a member before he was born. (It’s like sex, isn’t it? The young always think they invented whatever it is, and that old people have no idea.) I even got the bath towels (no, not the t-shirt) with the rainbow lettering.
I thought of mentioning I was around when the Rainbow Warrior sunk. But that might have given the wrong impression.